La Virgen de Guadalupe

La Marqueta, East Harlem

 Our Lady of Guadalupe, or the Virgin Mary, is the most important religious symbol in Catholic Latin American cultures. Many Hispanic families both in Latin America and the United States have altars in their homes similar to this one, with images and depictions of the Virgin Mary, colorful prayer candles, and incense.

As demonstrated in our course reading “Our Lady of Guadalupe,” Latin American Catholics highly venerate the Virgin Mary, and spend days orchestrating elaborate festivities and rituals in which they pray to her. Mexico specifically has a special connection with Our Lady of Guadalupe, as she is not only religiously significant, but played an important role in their national identity. In 1810, Miguel Hidalgo led a revolt against the Spanish and used the Virgin Guadalupe to justify his means of approach. He bore banners with her image on them and chanted her name through the streets. From that day on, the Virgin Guadalupe was known for freeing the Mexican people and bringing together the Spanish and indigenous populations of the country. To this day, families still put out shrines for her.

I found this shrine worshiping the Virgin Guadalupe at La Marqueta, a small café, bakery and grocery store in East Harlem. La Marqueta was created in 1936 to help provide families and low-income New Yorkers with Spanish food not offered anywhere else in the city. I spoke with Barbara, who was working at the La Marqueta the day I visited. She explained to me that the marketplace was once very popular and busy, but that due to budget cuts and displacement, they don’t receive as many customers. The marketplace is located under the subway tracks and doesn’t appear too welcoming on the outside, but inside the workers are welcoming, there are Spanish ballads playing, and the sweet smell of pan dulce.

I decided to walk around the market a bit. On the walls were photos of whom I assumed was the founder, and lots of little crosses and flowers. As I continued deeper into the building, I saw the shrine for the Virgin of Guadalupe. I wasn’t surprised, as this was a Latin American establishment, but I was taken aback at how big it was. The shrine took up a good amount of wall space and floor space, and there was so much detail involved into making it look nice. As I looked at the shrine Barbara said to me in Spanish: “The Virgin of Guadalupe is the queen of Mexico.” Barbara then began to tell me about her life in Mexico and how she had hoped for an easier life in the states.

What I realized as I was talking to Barbara is how important the Virgin Guadalupe is not to Latinos but to Latin Americans specifically. Like Moxley-Rouse explains in Engaged Surrender, there are ways in which Western interpretations of Christianity are oppressive to blacks. I think in this day and age this concept can also apply to Latin Americans. The Virgin of Guadalupe provides a comfort, a sort of solace to Latinos, and connects them with their culture and people in a way that the Western version of Christianity never could. 

Transitions of an Episcopal Church: The Limelight

I have been thinking about the space that was once the Limelight club on 21st St. and Park Avenue for the past few months. In the ‘80s, my dad was a recent immigrant cab-driver, and would pick up all of its eccentric spill-over in the early hours of the morning. Whenever I act as the city tour-guide to his visiting Russian friends or family, it’s always a place that gets infamously mentioned as a symbol of New York’s gritty culture -- it’s always a shock to imagine what’s typically thought of as obscene occurring in a typically-holy and traditional place.

Its history can be summed up in short: it was a former Episcopal church, turned drug-rehab center, turned-club, turned high-end boutique and gym. Right now, the space is home to the Gramercy Vintage furniture store and to the Calvary Episcopal Church, and is covered in flyers that read:“If you’re looking for Candlelight, we’re over at St. George’s Church”, (Candlelight is a service that celebrates the Christmas season; St. George’s is a church on 16th street), and it’s adorned in wreaths for the holiday season. Though the architecture “fits in” with the surroundings of the Gramercy neighborhood, it looks beautifully out-of-place and anachronistic among its immediate Park Avenue counterparts, which include New York City staples such as Kinkos, the Duane Reade, cafes, and restaurants.

Such a mouthful of transitions -- church, rehab, club, boutique-- hints at the complex symbolism each stage holds. When understanding these transitions most broadly, I initially thought of it as a potent symbol of the West’s shift to secularism -- with a curious, later return to the church (the space currently holds mass on Sundays). The Limelight, however, also raises questions about religion (or more accurately, about religiosity -- as in the church vs. club scene), which can be analyzed through James’s Varieties of Religious Experience, and wealth (since it presently exists as a high-end vintage store, was a boutique, and once functioned as a cash-cow for the club-owners), which can be approached through the lens of Kerouac. It also raises ideas about obligations of charity and service, which can be thought of through the lens of Dorothy Day-- since the space had held drug and alcohol rehabilitation programs in the past.

It almost seems that the Limelight acted as a place where one sought refuge from a world that is uneasy and often corrupt, an escape from a feeling of what William James might call weightlessness (which is an odd idea, considering the corruption at the Limelight - - is it possible to completely escape such a feeling, and is club-going a less potent approach than religion to mediate the feelings?) Perhaps James’s ideas about mysticism in which “consciousness of illumination” is an essential marker, might shed more light. (James, 222) James’s mystical states are authoritative over the individual who experiences them, not necessarily accepted uncritically by others, and “break down” rationalistic consciousness. (James, 23) The mystical experience can be evaluated based on its fruits. It seems, then, that religiosity can entail an attitude or individual endeavor in James’s view. It becomes more difficult to operate on such an atomistic, individual model when we live in a social world. Kerouac, too, felt an oppressive sort of weight from middle-class America, with the sarcastic remark: ““...my domain of existence and my karma was to be born in America where nobody has any fun or believes in anything, especially freedom.” (Kerouac, 31) It seems that religion in these texts is thought of with the empiricist criteria based on personal, inner happiness and serviceability -- likely similar criteria to the club-goer. Of course, such ignores the impact one’s choices have on interpersonal networks and societies.

I initially believed that such a transition (from church to club in the ‘80s) might be negative, or at least a marker of some loss. James’s idea of religion, however, seems to encompass a broader array of personal experiences than ones that get “watered-down” in church life. It seems ironic, perhaps even irreverent (though the church was deconsecrated) that a once-holy place could lose its sanctity and become an infamous haven of drug-use and crime. My views have been nuanced after the tragic terrorist attacks in Paris. Cafes, sports arenas, and theaters -- these can safely be said to be tokens of the West in which individuals seek refuge from the bane of daily-life. In this sense, it is wise to not jump to the conclusion that the secular transition that once was (church to club) is necessarily a loss. Such reasoning seems to hold onto outdated ideals and can even take some nasty turns. Instead, transition can be embraced to a broader understanding of human religious experience. While the “loss” was once that of church to club, the loss of a famous club -- perhaps one memorable to many-- to a more anonymous collection of shops also may leave much to be desired. It also raises the question, one perhaps relevant to the readings of Moxley Rouse: what determines what is sacred to people -- how can we determine what has more meaning, without relying on dogmatic criteria?

References

James, William. The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature. Oxford University Press, 2012.

Kerouac, Jack. The Dharma Bums. New York, NY. Penguin Books, 1958.

TAO Asian Bistro: Statue of Thousands Hands Guanyin

Living in New York City for over a year and a half, I would say that the most benefit I get from living in such a concrete jungle is to allow myself to immerse in diversity. Especially, when it comes to food cultures. It’s always fascinating when I browse Yelp for foods in the City. Very often, the styles of foods, restaurants, or bars you choose, at some degree show your personal taste and even your economic status. 

Two weeks ago, I went to this restaurant called TAO Asian Bistro located at 42 East 58th Street with my roommates to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Entering the restaurant, I was amazed by how the place is delicately decorated. The square tables made of hardwoods are placed deliberately with precise measurements to make the restaurant spacious and comfortable. The dim colors of space and warm colors of furniture create a charming atmosphere. It’s also interesting to observe people who step into the restaurant immediately became conscious as if to show their respect and admiration.

After the server dressed in tradition Chinese clothing led us to the table we reserved, the first thing that came into my eye is a huge, spectacular stone statue of Thousands Hands Guanyin, which is also called as the Thousand Arms, or the Goddess of Mercy. It’s placed the center on the back wall of our roundtable. The statue is vividly sculptured, and the top and bottom of the wall have shadowy blue light spotting on the Guanyin. My friends and I were all amazed by how stunning and magnificent the statue is.

This experience of encountering a “beautiful” Buddha artwork in a restaurant is very odd to me. Coming from a foreign background in Asia, I’m familiar with how Buddhists worship their gods in different spaces and circumstances. It’s also very often for me to see that restaurants owners would place the altar and the statue of Buddha in their restaurants. I know that this is mostly to express and practice their religious belief, as they would put foods or gifts as the “sacrifice” and devotion. Yet, I never feel ease by seeing those statues and altars because they seem very personal to the owners and they are intimidating to me in a way that I wouldn’t look into it for too long just to not offend it. However, the statue of Thousands Hands Guanyin I encountered in this gorgeous restaurant in New York City gives me a completely different impression of Buddhism in general. Unlike the experiences I had in other restaurants that put up the statue of Buddha, this Guanyin makes me feel friendly and approachable while the statue itself still present a high status with elegance.

This experience makes a great remark of how one religion may be portrayed differently. It also hints on how Eastern world and Western world view Buddhism differently. When I think about that the designer of the restaurant TAO stated, “TAO New York was transformed into a majestic Asian ‘temple’”, and “artifacts from China, Japan, and Thailand are artfully placed throughout the cavernous place”, I got a sense that the portrayal of Buddhism at TAO is coming from an artistic point of view. The alcohol menu and dinner menu’s choices of words such as “purity”, “eternal”, “from the sky”, and “from the land” seem to be resonating and creative in the purpose of attracting costumers and creating a fancy atmosphere. More or less, the religious ideas of Buddhism may have been presented through these artifacts, yet the image of this restaurant may not cope with the restaurants I went in Asia, where the owners would physically worship the statues of Buddha.

This recalls my memory of studying Henry Ward Beecher's Religion and the Beautiful. He advocates people to elevate the environment by beautiful things because beauty is God. Even though Beecher's context does not speak directly to Buddhism, I still find it thought-provoking to apply it to my observation at TAO Asian Bistro. To Buddhists, it is certainly problematic that such decoration in a restaurant may collapse the distinction between consumerism and religion. The business of TAO Asian Bistro seems to use the beauty of Buddhism to commercialize the restaurant for profit.

Statue of Father Duffy

As I made my way back to Port Authority Bus Terminal to return back home to my home in New Jersey, I had some time to kill before my bus departed. Rather than sit in a Starbucks or wait on line for the bus well before the departure time, I decided to stroll around the Times Square area.  As I strolled around Times Square, I saw a huge statue, over twice my height, in the center of Times Square at the rear of the TKTS ticket booth. Interested, I walked closer to get a better glance.

When I approached the great bronze statue, I read “Father Duffy” inscribed at its base. At a closer glance, I realized that behind whom I now knew as Father Duffy, there was a huge granite Celtic cross. The cross surrounded Father Duffy and gave him a religious appearance. By the name and the cross, I automatically came to the assumption that he was an important religious figure of New York City. As I continued to examine the statue, I noticed some more significant details. At the feet of Father Duffy, there laid what appeared to be an early 20^th century military helmet. Even more interesting, I noticed a book tightly being grasped. The book was adorned with a Christian cross. I really began to piece this statue together.

As I continued to meticulously inspect every nook and cranny of the statue, I made my way up to the neck of Father Duffy and made yet another astonishing discovery. Under a heavy coat, on the collar of the statue’s shirt, laid the initials ‘U.S.’ with a cross at its side. By now, it was obvious that Father Duffy was a priest. Christian insignia can be seen everywhere on the statue. But as I continued to document the mixture of military insignia as well, Father Duffy had to be more than a priest. There was only one profession that would explain this combination of military and religious symbols: a military Chaplin.

As I finished my inspection of the front of the statue, I decided to check out the back. Sure enough, there lay the description I so desperately needed. While it did not give an in depth biography, it did verify my belief that Father Francis P. Duffy (1871-1932) was a Catholic priest. Even more interesting, he was a distinguished war veteran who served as a Chaplin for the 165^th U.S. Infantry and the Old 69^th N.Y. Alas, it all made sense.

While this may seem like just another dedication statue, I felt that there was a stronger significance. After a quick search online, I was able to learn a little more about Father Duffy. As I began to ponder on the life of Father Duffy, I remembered the difficulties that existed during the time period of his life, especially the anti-Catholicism sentiment. Alas, there was a connection that jumped to the top of my thoughts: Father Duffy compared to Dorothy Day. Although the two had their differences, most notably Day’s anti-war attitude and Duffy serving in multiple U.S. wars including the First World War, they both were leaders of the Catholic faith. Dorothy Day was a leader and she worked to better the lives of the less fortunate. Father Duffy was a leader during his service in the army and was able to lift the morale of lower class Irish Catholics, who made up the majority of his regiment. During the final years of his life, he wrote an article against the belief that Catholics were not loyal Americans who put the Pope above the Constitution. He helped better the name of Catholics as loyal American citizens during a time when anti-Catholicism ran rampant. I believe that Catholics of 2015 owe a lot to both Father Duffy and Dorothy Day. It is because of charismatic leaders like them that helped elevate Catholics in American society.

A Little Piece of India

In mid-November, I attended a Diwali celebration at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Throughout the day, there were several events going on, such as a traditional Indian dance workshop, and a lantern-making workshop. But the day concluded with the Ramayana Dance Drama. For those who do not know, Diwali is the Annual Indian Festival of Lights, celebrated by those in the Hindu tradition. Being half Bengali, I was able to recognize and relate to a lot of the cultural dynamics of the event. However, I am not Hindu and I did not know very much about Diwali, so learning about the story of Diwali and its religious significance was an insightful and valuable experience.

The performance took place in the auditorium at the museum, a Broadway-sized proscenium theatre with mezzanine and all. A large statue of Vishnu was sitting at the corner of the stage. The audience consisted of many Indian families with small children and grandparents. Some families opted to wear traditional Indian clothing: kurtas, saris, and lehengas. Even some of the museum employees wore them as well. Although there were plenty of Indian families, the audience was very ethnically diverse. In fact, I sat next to a Jewish family. Many of the Indian families draped their coats and other personal belongings across the theatre seats, trying to save them for their family members. I giggled at this observation, because that is something my family would totally do. However, this caused a few predicaments because the museum employees did not permit people to save seats and a few audible arguments occurred. When the performance actually started, I was amazed by the traditional Indian dance and the storytelling. The Ramayana is a Sanskrit epic poem, which tells the story of Rama and Sita: their marriage, exile, and journey back to the kingdom. Overall, it depicts the victory of good over evil. The Indian families around me seemed to be enjoying the performance. They clapped and sang along, commenting throughout the entire story. A standing ovation concluded the two and half hour performance.

The main purpose of this event was to serve as a form of entertainment. For the museum, its main purpose was to encourage diverse communities to visit. However, like other immigrant groups in American history, the traditions and customs that are practiced must have a greater significance in the grand scheme of things. The Irish Catholics that came to the U.S. in the 1850s were discriminated against because Catholicism was suspect in America. However, when the U.S. acquired New Mexico, the Latino Catholicism did not sit well with the Irish Catholicism, because it differed greatly. And it certainly did not sit well with the Know-Nothings who believed in the power of Anglo-Saxon origins. This proves that religion extends beyond culture. Indians are not the only Hindus. But understanding Indian Hinduism is an attempt at understanding what it means to be Indian-American. I believe that for the Indians who attended this Diwali event, it served as a way of creating peoplehood and identity, just as the AME Church did for the African American community as James Baldwin alludes to. This event served as way for the Indian diaspora to share their culture and religious traditions with their children. It is a method of keeping their culture alive within them, a way of bringing a little piece of their homeland into America.

Galighticus

As an admirer of street art, I always have my eyes glued on the bricks and concrete that make up New York City. With the religious artifact project being assigned, I was excited to take what I find interesting and attempt to transform it into my assignment. After a few days looking up and down the facades of buildings for anything that could be deemed religious, a vibrantly spray-painted box truck surprisingly caught my eye. Parked on street across from Union Square Park, this truck was not just strikingly decorated, but strikingly decorated with Sri Lakshmi, the Hindu Goddess of spiritual and material wealth and an elephant spraying water from a golden vessel that is commonly associated with the Goddess. With this discovery I thought I had finally found my religious “artifact.”

A few days after finding the truck and snapping its picture, I uploaded it to my computer and took another look. The more I looked at the painting whilst enlarged, the more I saw. This truck was not just adorned with Sri Lakshmi, an elephant, and a beautiful background, but it also displayed a website; Galighticus.com, written in a cramped style directly positioned in the middle of the painted side of the truck. With this newfound information, I decided to go to the website to investigate and see just what “Galighticus” meant in relation to the Hindu components to the painting.

As I arrived at the website’s homepage I was completely taken a back, what was this website about, what was its aim? The main page of Galighticus.com has an array of visually engaging components such as outer space background, colorful text, and multiple pictures of religious figures. After getting acclimated with the visual effects, I was finally able to piece together what “Galighticus” was all about.

Galighticus.com is a website that promotes a spiritual consciousness that is lead by a man named Gano Grills. Gano Grills is a local New Yorker, who believes that every soul in this world has come to earth to take part in a certain role. Gano Grills believes that every soul plays an important role on earth, yet many do not know what their role is. With his spiritual guidance and the help of specific gods that created your soul, one can find their role and fulfill their potential here on Earth. Although there is much more to this belief system than what I briefly explained, I’d like to touch upon the fact that this faith that was created by Grills is non-denominational and exemplifies plurality of religion. The three gods that created Gano’s soul where Sri Lakshmi the Hindu Goddess of fortune, Shango the African God of storms, and Baldr the Norse god of love, peace, and forgiveness. The fact that this faith allows for a wide array of religious and mythical figures to work together to help individuals with their worldly journeys is something I find unique and actually characteristic of New York. It is unusual to think that religious figures from all different belief systems would in fact work together and cross religious boundaries in order to help individuals, but this faith created by Gano Grills believes in just that. New York is known for garnering inventive ideas and its acceptance of different beliefs and this spiritual awareness is both inventive and different in its own right. This religious outlook that has garnered a following in this city and around the world goes to show how different faiths and religious beliefs can overlap and in a sense work together. Everyone has the opportunity to garner this spiritual awareness which goes to show the embracing and inclusive qualities to this belief system which I think could only have budded and grown in a city like New York.

I recommend everyone take a look at Galighticus.com and see a different perspective on spiritual and religious beliefs. I also urge anyone who is ever near Union Square to check out the spray-painted truck that holds more significance than one may assume.

A Mural With A Message

 While making my way down Bleecker street on a sunny Saturday afternoon, I came across this exquisite mural. Located on the walls of the under-constructed Bayard Condict Building, an office building known for its lavish and radical architecture, rests this unknown and powerful work of art. It is difficult not to notice the bright and lively colors that pop from this mural when walking through the dark and dreary sidewalk burdened with construction. Although its location isn't ideal, I was still drawn to the powerful illustrative composition, as well as it’s main didactic, pacifistic message.

The foreground of the mural displays four people of different gender and race, joining hands with one another. Their mouths are agape, almost as if they are chanting a message in harmonious unison. The expression on their faces, as well as the people who stand together in the background, vary, but all don a passionate look. In addition, the foreground also displays numerous guns and other violent weapons, which are discarded and piled up in front of the four main figures. Furthermore, in the middle ground of the mural a tree with flowers growing off its branches is shown. In between these delicate branches a bright banner with an excerpt of writing is shown. The excerpt reads: “There is no way to peace; peace is the way”- A.J Muste”. Ultimately, the socially-charged quote from pacifist-movement member A.J Muste, the modern day references to gun-violence, and the powerful use of compositional design helps this mural propagate a message of peaceful unity of all peoples regardless of any physical, racial or even religious aspect they may possess. In addition, the closeness and the overlapping of the bodies presented within the picture can be perceived as a stylistic symbol to show how people should join together and love one another, rather than express feelings of contempt or hate towards one another. 

This message for peace is something very powerful and considering the events taking place now a days, is probably needed. This mural can be recognized as a symbol to end gun-violence and can be perceived as a message for all peoples to find harmony with one another. This mural can be perceived through a religious lens since it somewhat mirrors the teachings found within Joshua Liebman’s book. Throughout his book, Liebman lays out a quick fix on how all people can find their own inner spiritual and religious peace. In order to find this inner peace, Liebman prescribes that America and its people who are not beholden to a monarchial system of reliance, should embrace the self-reliance and pluralism of their country while also understanding that God is not a tyrannical, omnipotent punisher in the sky. Rather, God is a force of love which people should coexist with in an harmonious balance. Like Liebman’s self-help book, the mural echoes and advocates a similar harmonious-oriented solution for change. This solution that the mural promotes is one filled with a pluralistic and multiculturalist environment that includes a symbiotic relational coexistence of people, as well as a strong passionate bond, like the relationship advocates with God. Rather here, the religion is not one with just having a close relationship to God, but also one possessing a powerful and congenial connection with all those who surround you.